


Good Friends

by DevilOfWire



Series: DevilOfWire's Kinktober 2019 [29]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Red Rescue Team & Blue Rescue Team
Genre: Aftercare, Anatomy, Angst, Body Worship, Cock Worship, Feels, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, Hero Worship, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Massage, No Dialogue, One Shot, Porn with Feelings, Sad, Sad and Sweet, Service Top, Short, Sleepiness, Sleepy Sex, Smut, Wet & Messy, but extremely lightly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 09:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21251474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilOfWire/pseuds/DevilOfWire
Summary: 29.Glory hole | Double (Or more) Penetration| Sleepy Sex | MassageAfter a gruelling dungeon crawl, the rescue team leader—a vaporeon—gets a wonderful massage from his raichu partner obsessed with his sleek body, complete with averyhappy ending.At least, happy for the vaporeon.





	Good Friends

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to make this as relaxing as possible, got a bit sad, whoops

After a long day of dungeon crawling, the leader of the Red Rescue Team wants nothing more than some quality rest and relaxation back at his cozy home.

His basic needs are met well enough as he lays motionless on the fluffy covers of his bed, sprawled out spread eagle. With such tiny, stubby limbs, however, he only manages to take up a quarter of the bed, leaving plenty of space for his partner to join him atop it.

Silin is sore, as _ ever. _ Body sore, mind sore, absolutely _ exhausted. _Covered in bruises and scratches, muscles unable to fully relax for memories of fainting terrified pokémon no different than him in reality.

He needs a break. Not just a nap, not a ten hour rest, but a good, deep _ break. _

It’s a very good thing his partner is just the creature to supply such a thing.

A large raichu, Rylere, settles above his leader with a wide grin that is barely peeked through squinting eyes before falling shut once again, Silin too tired even to watch.

The vaporeon can barely manage a curt nod to his partner.

Rylere lets out a hum of delight, and soon, furry little black fingers slide over Silin’s smooth skin, starting at the shoulders.

Silin heaves a heavy sigh, squeezing his eyes shut. Rylere knows what he’s doing, has done this many, _ many _ times before.

Before evolution, after it, so he knows every knot in Silin’s sleek muscles, every run of his tendons and ball of his joints. What to push, what to let alone. What he likes, what he doesn’t.

He minds Silin’s wounds, soft over the purpling bruises, light over the darkened scars.

And within mere seconds, Silin feels the tightness in his flesh leave him beneath Rylere’s skilled paws, circles and waves almost magically alleviating the tension within them. Rylere sticks patiently to one spot, enjoying the feather-soft touch of Silin’s skin before finally moving on only when he feels complete relaxation, no bump or resistance in him anymore.

His hands fly down over Silin’s little arms, lithe with training, the sinew within them seeming to be wrung out underneath his fingers all the way down to Silin’s, out with the end of his very claws.

Arms done, Rylere moves on to Silin’s neck, running his claws along the frill of the white collar about his neck just to smooth the thin membrane, no real muscles within it, of course. So he quickly skirts down to Silin’s collar bones, down the smooth expanse of his rib cage, only able to feel the briefest bumps of bones beneath, seeing just the slightest dip of his chest. Fat smooths his form almost as much as Rylere’s does, leaving his body mostly featureless and deceptively soft-looking, belying the real power that he can unleash.

Rylere’s furry paws slide down Silin’s sides, tickling just enough that Silin puffs a small trill of bliss. Music to the raichu’s curved ears.

He reaches the vaporeon’s hip bones, akin to his ribs in the way they just barely stick out, wide-set and curvy, dropping into thick, round thighs nearly the size of Silin’s entire head each. Rylere looks up as he massages his fingertips deep into the flesh of his upper thighs, watching Silin’s pointed mouth fall open and pant quietly to himself, too tired to stop.

His curvy thighs fall open under Rylere’s touch, splaying to either side to leave his lower abdomen fully exposed, Rylere modestly keeping his gaze locked on Silin’s legs only, ignoring the burning desire to stare at Silin’s groin.

Not yet.

He finally moves down to Silin’s little knees, knowing he could very well touch those fatty thighs literally all day but also knowing he owes Silin _ much more. _

His fingers slide over bone finally noticeable at the vaporeon’s ankles, down to his webbed toes and pressing his thumbs into the pads at the very bottom, feeling the squish of the soft flesh.

Rylere shifts back up to Silin’s toes, pulling on his white claws and feeling them click against his own black ones before letting them fall back to the bed, bouncing once or twice on the soft sheets.

He then clasps his hands before separating them once again, coming down on Silin’s large tail at the base where it peeks from under his rump, pulling down around the thick length until it slims enough he can touch his fingertips of both hands together. He touches the flexible cartilage of Silin’s spine ridge that runs down his tail all the way to the tip, thin enough his hands cover each other before splitting off to feel over either bulbous fin. Silin’s fins are soft as butter, easily giving under the slightest of touches, filled with mainly blubbery fat and light strains of muscle to assist with buoyancy in water.

With a flick of his tail—conscious or not—Silin’s slippery skin twitches out of his light grasp to fall back on the bed, forcing Rylere’s attention back to Silin in his entirety.

He’s panting quick breaths, eyes open only in heavy slits, dark now not just with tiredness but also with _ lust. _His tail flicks again and Rylere’s eyes fall automatically to it, placed conveniently between Silin’s wide thighs, right over his crotch before his fins fall away, revealing his flushed sex.

Silin’s belly is already slick with cum, the thin organ of his penis having slipped from its nearly-invisible sheath between his legs under Rylere’s attentive touches, coming out easily after not having been attended to at all for the long _ days _they were stuck in their last dungeon.

It twitches with intense need, a bright red coated in cum that highlights it white, gleaming in the dying sunlight.

Well—as Rylere draws his hands up to touch Silin’s warm face, cup his round jaw and slide over his flared ears—he’s touched him _ everywhere else _ now. It’s only fair he touches him there, too.

And Silin’s eyes seem to _ beg _him when he sits up, sparkling in the weak light of sunset and looking at him like he’s not just a mere pokémon, not just his partner, not even a leader like Silin actually is, but like he’s a God.

A _ God. _

Rylere will never quite live up to that: he’s only a meagre raichu, but he’ll try his very best for Silin, his precious leader, closest _ friend. _

He ghosts light touches over Silin’s red cock at the base where it bursts from the wet slit of his sheath, trying to be as careful as possible but still managing to draw a whiny moan from the vaporeon anyway. _ So _sensitive.

He’s done this before as well, of course. For relaxation, some relief from the struggles of daily life. It had happened quite naturally after a massaging session not much different from this one, one word all Rylere needed to finally take care of the one part of Silin he wasn’t allowed to yet.

Rylere really likes it, and he can only _ hope _Silin does as much as he does.

One day—he thinks as he runs his light fur up Silin’s cherry red sex—_maybe _ he’ll be able to do _ even more _ for him than just _ this. _ He wouldn’t mind putting it in his mouth, not at all. He thinks he’d love that, actually. It looks utterly delicious, leaking beads of cum from its tiny slit at the tip, small veins in it throbbing under his claws.

Maybe one day. Maybe when they’re finished with their adventures.

But for now, Silin doesn’t ask for anything else, hardly talks at all about this _ particular _event. He’s shy, maybe doesn’t like thinking about it outside of the moment, like most males would.

That’s fine.

Rylere just runs his fingers up and down his small length, collecting the cum dripping down it and rubbing it into his short fur to further slick his cock, watching it leak back into Silin’s sheath slit, onto his loins and down the curve of his ass.

Silin’s moans are endless now, one after another after another, thankfully constrained to his isolated one-room cottage. His prick makes slick sounds with the immense amount of watery cum his body makes, wetly squelching under Rylere’s touches in a way that makes both of their blood warm, the act they’re doing undeniable as it bounces around their large ears.

Rylere pumps his little cock faster, taking it fully within his hand, easy with its thin girth. Silin’s moans turn to shouts, then to keening screams, those muscles that were relaxed in bliss but five minutes ago now tensing hard again. This time, though, it’s not with the cool chill of battle, but instead with the beautiful heat of sex, filling a hot pool in his belly that spreads through his entire body, bone to bone, tendon to tendon, until it’s all consuming, never-ending.

Until Silin can barely think of anything at all. Not the upcoming rescues, not the legendary pokémon relying on them, not the needs of his extended group, not even the ache of his body. Nothing but his immediate self, the sounds, the sights, _ Rylere, _ his thick paws, his tight grasp, content grin on his fluffy lips.

And pleasure, pleasure, _ pleasure, white hot, _ ** _burning pleasure._ **

_ More, more, more more more more _ ** _more–_ **

Silin climaxes with a whimper, Rylere flicking his wrist and watching him ejaculate onto his stomach and up his chest, some particularly strong shots striking his cheek, chin, falling down onto the frill of his white collar.

He fucks his claws gently on Silin’s hard-twitching cock, stroking him through orgasm all the way until his body is completely spent, weak spurts of cum barely making it to his navel anymore.

Rylere slides his hand down to Silin’s very base, watching the final streams of cum from his cockslit leak down his prick uselessly. He squeezes his paw up Silin’s length all the way to the very tip, a few pearly beads of cum brought out of his prick by the movement.

Rylere swipes his thumb one last time upon Silin’s softening shaft before letting it fall back down onto his stomach, slapping wetly on the cum and pre swirling together there.

Silin feels in an entirely different reality, now. The pain and frustration of just half an hour before is completely gone, replaced with bliss, some sense that everything will be fine, will work out just how it’s meant to in the end.

His body so relaxed he can’t even feel it anymore.

He’s about to thank Rylere when a wet cloth surprises him enough to peel open his eyes once again. It’s just _ him, _ of course, the _ raichu, _ patting gently on his flesh to clean up the cum that now coats it.

He cleans him softly, slowly, almost sensually. Wraps the soft cloth gently around Silin’s limp prick, wiping the excess cum but leaving it wet to slide back into his sheath easily.

Rylere folds the cloth and rises to cup Silin’s face, wiping the last of the fluids away.

Rylere leans back and grins at a job well done. He looks down, sees his own reddened cock peeking from its slit, but pushes away his lust for now. There’s more important things to be done.

He tosses the cloth into a basket to be taken out and washed in the river later, and when he returns to the bed, he finds Silin’s sound asleep. His breaths are slow, deep already despite it having been seconds. Utterly _ relaxed. _

Rylere smiles to himself silently, feeling a tinge of melancholy and blaming it on the peace in the room as he turns to the front door to leave, sun now set to reveal pure moonlight that guides him on the stepping stones over the moat around Silin’s house. The spring air is nice and warm on his fur, slightly humid but intensely pleasant nonetheless. It’s perfectly silent other than for the sounds of insects, the rustling of leaves.

He turns to the right and walks down the path back to his own home, knowing he’ll return to Silin come morning, as always.

_ But—he can’t help but think with a slight frown—maybe one day they’ll talk about all of this… What they are, what they could be, what it meant. _

_ … _

_ … one day… _

**Author's Note:**

> :( Now I wanna write a happy ending for this raichu, dammit! 
> 
> Thank you very much for reading!


End file.
